


Matchmaker

by RenDoe



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Denise lives, Fluff, Glenn Lives, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2017-02-11
Packaged: 2018-09-23 14:34:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9661577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RenDoe/pseuds/RenDoe
Summary: “Please, tell me you didn’t just give him the shovel talk.”“I might’ve said a few things I shouldn’t have.”Eric notices the way Daryl and Jesus look at each other and decides that if they won’t do anything, he’ll just take matters into his own hands.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was just something that popped into my head one day that I had to write. The world needs more Aaron and Eric.
> 
> This is canon up to the end of 6x12. Maggie and Carol aren't captured and the Saviors were taken care of at the satellite station (so Denise and Glenn are still alive in this).

“No,” Aaron immediately says, nearly a second after the words leave his mouth.

“We can just–"

This time, Eric doesn’t even get the chance to finish his thought because Aaron groans noisily, one hand shifting to turn the kitchen faucet off. The dish in his hand goes forgotten, left somewhere in the sink where he can’t see. Aaron leaves their small kitchen, taking a quiet seat beside him at the dining room table.

“I know you’re just trying to help, but it’s none of our business,” his boyfriend tells him, voice soft.  

“You know just as well as I do that if someone doesn’t step in and nudge them in the right direction, they’ll never figure it out.” While he doesn’t know Jesus as well as he knows Daryl, he has two working eyes. He knows what he’s seen – and he definitely knows what he saw this morning at the front gate after the group returned from a supply run at Hilltop.

Friends do not look at each other like that. He reassured that thought nearly two weeks ago when he popped into the Grimes household with a fresh bowl of spaghetti. The way Daryl looked at Rick and Michonne is definitely different than the way he looks at Jesus. For one, he didn’t seem to stare holes into the back of their heads when they weren’t looking.

He’s also painfully aware of how emotionally closed off the two seem to be. He remembers how surprised he was when he realized that Jesus, despite of himself, apparently kept his cards close to his chest. (Although, Eric wonders if the man is blind because the long looks Daryl gives him are anything but subtle).

Thus, after nearly three weeks of watching those two dance around each other like kids with their first crush, he decided to finally take matters into his own hands. If they weren’t going to do anything, he’d just have to nudge them in the right direction – until one of them finally figures it out and takes a leap of faith.

“Or, maybe, you’re exaggerating things,” Aaron says. “How are you so sure that they even like each other? The last time I saw them together, they were arguing.”

“They bicker like an old married couple.”

Aaron doesn’t look impressed.

“I can prove it to you.”

Aaron’s frown twitches, like he wants to smile but he’s willing it away.

“Oh, you can?”

 

* * *

 

When his boyfriend walks through the door, Eric can see the moment the realization settles in. Instead of the typical two table settings, there’s four today. What he hadn’t told Aaron earlier was that he invited two guests over for dinner. Now, watching Aaron stare at the two additions spread across the table, he supposes he doesn’t have to tell him who he invited. Judging by the look on his face, he already knows.

“Really?” is all Aaron says with a small but amused huff.

“Really,” he confirms as he pulls out the wine glasses.

“If they get into it, you get to break it up.”

Eric shakes his head with a grin. “I really doubt that’s gonna happen.”

Not in the way Aaron thinks, at least.

“I’m gonna go wash up,” Aaron tells him. “Did you want any help with this?” He gestures to the table.

“I got it,” he answers. A curious thought materializes in his head, making him pause. He decides that the opportunity is too good to pass up, even though he knows he’ll have more than enough time for a good, lighthearted teasing later.

“On second thought, maybe you should go ask Denise for a pair of glasses. If you don’t see it by the end of this, you probably need them.”

Aaron lets out a bark of laughter at that, one that makes his heart swell. It’s a sound he feels like he doesn’t hear often enough. One that he wishes he could hear every day if the world would allow it.

“Maybe you’ll be the one that needs them,” Aaron counters with a wide grin.

“I guess we’ll find out soon enough.”

As he comes to learn, soon turns out to mean less than two hours later – when he has Daryl and Jesus situated next to one another, across the table from them, both stiffer than they normally are. Daryl has never been the most talkative of people, so Eric doesn’t find his lingering silences that out of place. However, the fact that Jesus has said less than ten words in the past half-hour is definitely raising a few red flags.

He’s also noticed that Daryl and Jesus haven’t looked at each other once since they’ve gotten here.

“So, how’s Maggie?” he hears Aaron eventually ask. When he glances to his boyfriend, he realizes that the question is leveled to Jesus. It makes sense, he supposes, since Maggie and Glenn moved to Hilltop a month ago to be closer to the doctor. Jesus sees them more than any of them do now.

“She’s getting bigger by the day,” Jesus answers with a warm smile. “Harlan says her pregnancy is going well.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

“Glenn’s buildin' a crib,” Daryl suddenly chips in.

Both he and Aaron look at him, a bit surprised. Daryl doesn’t seem to notice the additional attention until he has a fork wrapped in spaghetti halfway in his mouth. He pauses, blinking twice, before he practically swallows down the bite whole. Eric swears that Daryl looks to his right, where Jesus sits, before abruptly grabbing for his glass of wine. He averts his eyes to somewhere behind them, a distinctive red hue adorning the bridge of his nose.

“They’ve been staying in Barrington House,” Jesus says. “Gregory didn’t want them there, but he didn’t really have a choice in the matter.”

For a moment, Jesus hesitates, sparing a fleeting glance in Daryl’s direction that he nearly misses. The movement is too quick for him to make any sense of.

Despite this, he’s definitely become aware of the weird game of tag they seem to be playing with their eyes – as cheesy as that sounds. There are a lot of quick glances, but nothing that sticks for more than a few seconds. It’s certainly…odd. He’s never noticed this before.

“If I recall correctly, didn’t you lend a hand when Glenn first started putting the crib together?”

Daryl narrows his eyes, the tapered slits sliding to the man next to him. Finally, the two lock eyes.

“I saw you two in there,” Jesus says, still smiling. There’s something undeniably smug about it now. “It was kind of sweet, honestly.”

“He asked,” Daryl mumbles, his face even more red than it was just mere moments ago.

Eric sneaks a quick peek in Aaron’s direction, snagging his boyfriend’s attention. He can already see the cogs beginning to roll in his brain. After all, Jesus just basically admitted that he and Daryl spend time together when Daryl's at Hilltop.

“He asked you to hold something up, not for another pair of hands. That’s what Glenn told me, at least.”

Daryl doesn’t respond. He merely spins his fork around the plate, not quite meeting any of their eyes. Eric can sense the discomfort coming from the man in waves. It’s become rather obvious that Daryl doesn’t enjoy being the topic of conversation.

“Why do I have a feeling that the baby is going to be spoiled rotten?” Aaron asks before Eric can say something to break the lingering silence. He spares him a grateful smile when their eyes meet for a moment.

“Oh, it’s already started happening,” Jesus tells him. “We don’t have many children at Hilltop, so you can imagine how ecstatic some people are that there’s going to be a baby soon. Maggie’s already gotten a few offers from people wanting to be the baby’s godparent.”

“They’ve been there a month,” Aaron says, his brow nearly raised to his hairline.

“And it’s only getting worse.” Jesus lets out a quiet laugh. “They’ve gotten so many baby gifts - they don’t know where to put them all.”

“Oh, god.”

“Not quite," Jesus teases with a good-natured grin. 

“Ain’t ya tired of the Jesus jokes yet?” Daryl asks. There’s something rough in his voice, something brusque and short compared to the gruff but relatively affable tone Eric’s become accustomed to. He feels like he’s missing something – but there’s no way he can ask about that now. He doubts he’d get a straight answer out of either one of them to be honest.

Jesus’ grin fades slightly, but it returns in the blink of an eye. His gaze slips to the man next to him, one eyebrow raised in question.

“Well, one of my Jesus jokes managed to get a smile out of you yesterday,” Jesus reminds him. There's a sharpness to his tone that wasn't there a moment ago.

The two stare at each other for a little while longer. From Eric's perspective, it almost looks like a silent challenge. He manages a glance in Aaron’s direction and notices the confused expression stretched across his face. He knows there’s a silent question there and he shrugs loosely in return.

Eventually, they return to their meal, the air a bit quieter and colder than before. It's become blatantly apparent that Eric missed out on something big – a disagreement or an argument he must’ve not seen. Aaron did mention that they were arguing the last time he saw them. He makes a mental note to ask about that later.

After all, the pair needs to be on relatively decent terms in order for his plan to work. Or, at least, be willing to be in the same room for more than five minutes together – without bickering, preferably.

When Eric gathers the dishes to wash up, Jesus volunteers to help. Aaron takes Daryl to the living room, expression still hesitant. He can practically hear his boyfriend’s voice in his ears urging him to fix this since it was his idea to invite them over in the first place.

In the end, he decides he’ll have an easier time getting Jesus to talk.

“So,” he begins, elbow deep in soapy water. “What was that about?”

Jesus looks over at him. “Don’t worry about it. It’s nothing.”

“Sorry if this was a bad time,” he offers. “If I knew you two were arguing–”

“Believe me, we’re not,” Jesus reassures him.

He hesitates, not wanting to prod too much. Like Aaron said, whatever is going on between them – or what _could_ be – isn’t any of his business. But he’s always been too curious for his own good. And the frown lines creased at the edges of Jesus' mouth are telling a completely different story.  

“It didn’t sound like nothing.”

“It really is,” Jesus tells him, shaking his head. He pauses and purses his lips, fingers coming to a slow stop on the dish in his hand. "I just said something I shouldn’t have this morning, and Daryl got mad.”

That…sounds completely believable. He’s seen Jesus’ playful nature first-hand, and he’s also seen how quick Daryl will prickle up in response. Jesus’ brand of humor isn’t for everyone, he supposes.

However, before he can say anything else, he hears the distinct scuff of a boot against the linoleum. When he turns around, he sees Daryl hovering by the edge of the counter, clearly uncertain as his eyes flicker between the two of them.

“Aaron needs ya fer’ somethin’,” the man explains.

“Oh,” he answers slowly, a bit taken aback. He glances over at Jesus. “I guess I should go–”

“It’s fine, I think I’ve got everything handled here.”

“I’ll help,” Daryl says.

He has to admit that he’s a little surprised. Daryl doesn’t meet his prying eyes; instead, he rolls up his sleeves and steps into the empty space next to Jesus. Even Jesus seems shocked.

“Go,” Daryl tells him. “We got it.”

With some reluctance, he steps out of the room. Hopefully, they’ll get over this little tiff – especially now that he’s got a stake in this.

He finds Aaron in one of the recliners, waiting for him.

“What did you need?” he asks.

Instead of answering, Aaron puts a finger to his lips. Eric promptly shuts his mouth with a small frown. When Aaron points in the direction of the kitchen, he puts the pieces together.

Although he can’t make out what they’re saying, he can hear two voices clear as day.

“Let’s give them some space,” Aaron whispers, climbing to his feet.

“You believe me now?” he can’t help but ask.

“I guess I should go talk to Denise first thing in the morning,” Aaron says with a small chuckle.

“What made you change your mind?”

It isn’t until they reach the garage, the door safely shut behind them, that Aaron answers.

“Honestly, I didn't believe you at first," his boyfriend tells him. "It wasn't until you two went to wash the dishes that I noticed anything. He kept looking over there. And he was the one who wanted to lend a helping hand.”

Eric frowns. “He said you needed help.”

“Well, I guess he made that up on the spot then because it was his idea.”

 

* * *

 

Even though Aaron has admitted that he was wrong and Eric was right, much to his own delight, he is still reluctant to get involved. Thus, Eric finds himself very much on his own in this endeavor. He doesn’t really mind it, though, because he’s always wanted to play matchmaker. Unfortunately, he never had the opportunity – not until now that is.

It doesn’t take him long to run right into another roadblock – or well, a few roadblocks to be exact. The first one being that Jesus has gone back to Hilltop for the time being. The second is that Daryl has made himself scarce ever since. And the third is that he doesn’t have a single clue of what to do because he’s _never_ done this before.

As it turns out, matchmaking is a lot harder than he thought it would be.

He only spends a day stewing over it. Since he can’t come up with a single decent idea on his own, he decides to enlist the help of a few friends. Or, well, a friend. He considers talking to a couple of people but decides against it in the end. He doesn't know Carol well enough to really approach her about this. Rick seems rather clueless about the whole thing. And the only other people he would consider don't even live here anymore.

“No offense, but why would you ask me?” Tara asks him when he’s finished explaining the situation. “I’m pretty sure you’ve noticed by now, but I like girls. I don’t know the first thing about guys.”

“I know,” he says. “Just wondering if you had a few ideas. Matchmaking isn’t exactly gender exclusive.”

“Okay, you’ve got a point there,” she agrees. “Are you sure it would even work though? I didn’t even know Daryl…” She makes a vague gesture with her hand.

“I’m pretty sure. If you don’t believe me, watch them the next time they’re around each other. Aaron didn’t believe me until he saw it for himself.”

“Alright, I guess I'll just take your word for it then." She pauses, focusing her attention one of the pillows on the empty bed. She fluffs it, until the dent is all but gone, before she sets the object back down on the bed. Despite their best efforts, the pillowcase is still splattered in pink. He remembers how hard Tara scrubbed at that thing - all that effort poured over something that seemed so trivial because she wanted to do something to help Denise. No matter how small it was, it mattered. 

"You know, there’s an interesting rumor going around Hilltop right now," Tara eventually continues. She drags one of the chairs towards her before she takes a seat, arms rested over the back of it.

“What is it?”

“Oh, just a few whispers here and there.” She waves her hand again. “I’m pretty sure there’s a betting pool too. Last time I went there, a girl told me Daryl spent the night in Jesus’ trailer. I don’t buy that – but I guess you’re not the only one that thinks something’s going on between them.”

“Huh,” he says, for a lack of a better word. “Good to know.”

 

* * *

 

In the end, he doesn’t have a clear-cut plan drawn out. He opts to go with whatever feels right in the moment – because he can’t exactly predict what Daryl or Jesus is going to do. When he sees Daryl a couple of days later hanging out on his porch, a lit cigarette dangling from one hand, he decides to take a risk.

After all, assessing the situation will only help him in the long-run.

“Want some company?” he asks.

Daryl shrugs and gestures loosely to the empty chair next to him.

Eric takes a seat with a small smile, idly watching the plume of smoke Daryl exhales shortly after. The smell, however, is a lot less pleasant.

“So, how’s Jesus?”

Daryl turns his head slightly, clearly confused by the question if his expression is anything to go by. He takes another drag of his cigarette before he finally gives him an answer.

“Dunno,” he says. “Why you askin’ me?”

“Because you two spend a lot of time together.” He’s not lying. Out of everyone at Alexandria, he’d say that Jesus is the closest to Daryl – rose-tinted goggles aside. He’s never really seen Jesus spend much time one-on-one with anyone else here – although he knows the man is relatively close to Maggie and Glenn as well (which makes sense since they all reside at Hilltop).

Daryl scoffs. “Not really.”

“Every time he’s here, I always see him with you,” Eric reminds him. “Come on, you can’t deny that you two are friends.”

“Nah, we fight too much.”

“Jesus likes to tease you,” Eric corrects with a knowing smile. “But it’s nothing malicious.”

Daryl releases a tired breath. “A’right. So what?”

“There’s nothing wrong with having friends, Daryl.”

Instead of giving him a proper reply, he finds himself on the receiving end of a long but unreadable stare. For a moment, he wonders if he’s being too transparent, if he’s said too much already. But Daryl merely sweeps his eyes elsewhere, exhaling another trail of smoke.

Behind Daryl, he notices a familiar shape propped up against the house. A crossbow. It’s not the one Daryl used to have – because he lost that along with his bike some time ago. They were stolen apparently, but Daryl’s remained tight-lipped about the circumstances.

He doesn’t know where he found this one – or how, since he thinks he can safely assume that crossbows aren’t exactly common here in Virginia. He just remembers Daryl returning from a run with the weapon strapped to his shoulder, like he had never lost it in the first place.

“You know, I never asked but where did you find that?” he asks, pointing to the object.

Daryl's eyes follow the gesture. “Paul gave it to me.”

That makes Eric pause. He definitely didn’t know that.

And _Paul_? That’s another first.

A few moments pass by between them and he can see a scowl beginning to take form on Daryl’s face, as if he just realized his mistake.

“Don’t,” Daryl says, voice low.

“I haven’t even said anything yet,” he replies with a grin. His gaze flicks back to the crossbow. “I didn’t know he gave that to you.”

“They had it at Hilltop. None of 'em knew what ta’ do with it,” Daryl explains before he takes a short pause, sparing a long look at the weapon as well.

“Said I’d put it ta' better use.” The words come out quieter than before. Softer.

“Well, he’s not wrong.”

Daryl stares at him. He’s not scowling anymore, at least.

“Guess not,” he eventually agrees.

“So, it’s Paul now?”

Daryl actually groans at that.

“I ain’t callin’ the guy Jesus.”

He tries to think of anyone else who calls Jesus by his given name but he can’t conjure up a single person. Rick, Tara, Maggie – they all call him Jesus. It seems that Daryl is the only one who doesn’t.

Well, that’s something to file away for later. It looks like he did learn something after all.

 

* * *

 

Jesus returns a little over a week later, a proverbial thorn in Daryl’s side if the sullen look on his face is anything to go by. However, Daryl doesn’t appear to push the other away or try to make a break for it. It seems that he just lets Jesus rattle on about whatever it is that has him so animated, sparing him a few lingering glances from time to time.

“Your investment in this is bordering unhealthy,” Aaron tells him one night, after Eric has given him a short update of how this matchmaking endeavor is faring.

“It’s for a good cause,” he counters.

“Or, you could just let them figure it out on their own – they’re not children.”

“I know they’re not. It’s just hard not to get involved,” he says with a tiny shrug. “Daryl’s a good guy – and so is Jesus. They deserve something good to happen to them for once.”

When Daryl first arrived at Alexandria with the others, it was pretty obvious just looking at him that he didn’t fit in well. He always seemed to exist on the outer seams of whatever group he was with, both steady and distant. While he’s become a valued member of this community along with everyone in Rick’s group, he’s one of the few that hasn’t settled down. He still does scouting missions with Aaron and when he’s not, it always seems like he’s out and about, wandering in the woods. Daryl probably spends more time outside these gates than inside.

Then Jesus came along and attached himself to the surly man like a pesky shadow. At first, Eric thought Daryl was annoyed by the other man’s antics. However, he noticed the pair going on supply runs together and ambling outside the walls with only Daryl’s crossbow as a weapon. They mostly returned empty-handed, or sometimes with a rodent or two, but they both always appeared to be more visibly relaxed after these trips.

Aaron is close friends with Daryl and he’s only been on one trip with the man – and it was to find that black horse everyone had caught a glimpse of. That had been months ago.

At the beginning, he just thought Daryl had made another friend. But then the long, lingering stares started and Eric felt something click in his head.

“I agree, but isn’t there a better way of doing this?” Aaron asks.

“It’s not like I’m going to push them into a closet and lock them in there until they confess or anything. I just wish they’d talk it out, but I don’t see either of them doing that.”

His boyfriend gives him a less than amused stare, but there's a trace of fondness hidden beneath it. After the silence stretches out for a few more moments, Aaron finally lets out a quiet, little sigh.

“So,” Aaron begins, a slow smile beginning to stretch across his face. “What did you plan on doing exactly?”

Eric’s grin is nothing short of predatory.

 

* * *

 

Step one: get Daryl and Jesus alone together (at least long enough for the two to have a heartfelt, meaningful conversation).

It’s simple, really. The task definitely isn’t difficult by any means but when he begins putting his plan into motion, the world expresses its inherent desire to bite back. He only has five days – because Jesus heads back to Hilltop after that - but it seems like every time he manages to get the two in the vicinity of one another, someone else just appears out of nowhere and sends his plan into shambles.

“Rick’s looking for you,” Rosita told Daryl as soon as she had stepped foot in the room, completely oblivious to Eric’s frustration.

“Hey, we could really use your guys’ help carrying something,” Tara had said when she found them the day after. At least she spared him a guilty smile when their eyes met.

“You know how to skin a deer, right?” It hardly sounded like a question – but then again, everything Abraham says sounds like a drill command.

By the third day, he gives up completely.

“Why don’t we just invite them to dinner and let them do the dishes together again?” Aaron proposes after he finds Eric sulking in their living room. 

While it sounds a bit redundant, he can’t come up with a better idea so he goes along with it.

Thus, another plan is formed – and honorably dubbed “Project Spaghetti” because he’s never been particularly good at naming things. The snicker Aaron gives him in response only solidifies that thought.

Of course, he ends up burning the spaghetti – which he hasn’t done in _years_. On top of that, Daryl finds him later that day with an apologetic expression. Apparently, Sasha asked him to cover her shift at the watchtower and he agreed to it. In the end, with some reluctance on his part, Project Spaghetti is cancelled.

“Maybe, it’s just not meant to be.”

“Oh, it’s meant to be,” he disagrees. Although, it would be nice if the universe gave him a break – even a small one would be very much appreciated at this point. 

“You know he’s coming back, right?” Aaron continues, taking a seat next to him. He takes Eric’s hand within his, squeezing his fingers softly. When Eric meets his eyes, he finds his frustrations subsiding. It’s hard to stay angry when his boyfriend smiles at him like that.

“Yeah.” He swallows the lump in his throat. “But I’ve always been pretty impatient.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“What do you think I should do?” he finally asks.

Aaron leans back, still smiling warmly at him. There’s an indubitably impish glint in his eyes – and Eric’s suspicions only grown when Aaron climbs back to his feet and pads to one of their curtained windows. He can feel his brow rising to his hairline when Aaron’s hand tugs at one of the edges.

“You might not have to do anything,” he says before he pulls the material away from the glass.

Sitting outside on the porch of one of the vacant houses are Jesus and Daryl. While he’s too far to make out the details, it’s rather obvious that the two are enjoying one another’s company. Neither of them appears overly eager to move and he spots a bottle of something dangling from Jesus’ fingers.  

“Huh,” is the first word to tumble off his tongue. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Aaron’s grin only growing in size.

“Maybe, you were right after all.”

 

* * *

 

Today, he spends most of the day in the infirmary with Tara and Denise, scrubbing nearly every inch of the room until it practically shines under the sun’s glare. His mind mostly remains consumed with the task at hand, wandering every now and again, but it’s easy to shove these stray thoughts away when Tara is handing him another empty bucket.

He doesn’t return home until well into the evening, when the sky is red, orange, and pink. By then, the only things on his mind are food (because he’s practically famished) and sleep (because his legs are beginning to feel like lead).

Thus, when he finds Jesus slowly ambling down his front porch with a blatantly apprehensive expression, he’s a bit slow to the uptake.

The first thing he thinks is that it’s a tad weird. And when Jesus’ eyes flicker to him briefly, he notices the pale sheen that’s consumed his skin - save for the pinkish tint that's splotched across his cheeks despite the tepid temperature.

And that’s just… _really_ weird.

Aside from that, he doesn’t receive much acknowledgement. In fact, if his eyes aren't deceiving him, he’d say that Jesus practically scampers away, like he wants to be anywhere _but_ here.

“Hey,” Aaron says after he gets inside.

“Why was Jesus here?”

This time, Aaron hesitates. He narrows his eyes, trying to quietly put the pieces together – because there is definitely something odd about all this. Unfortunately, his brain is still fuzzy, too sleep-deprived to tap into those problem-solving skills that certainly would’ve been useful in this situation.

“I might have taken a page out of your book,” Aaron tells him; a bit sheepishly he might add. “Jesus and I…we, uh, had a talk…”

“He’s white as a sheet, what did you say to him?”

“Um…things…”

The pieces fit into place almost immediately - the pale, flushed skin, the out of character skittishness, the lack of a hello or a goodbye. As soon as they do, he groans.

“Please, tell me you didn’t just give him the shovel talk.”

“I might’ve said a few things I shouldn’t have.”

All he can do is shake his head, the fatigue weighing heavily on his bones. And Aaron said _he_ meddled too much. What he did pales in comparison to this.

“Hopefully, you didn’t just scare him off,” he eventually remarks.

To be quite honest, he's at a loss for words for once.

 

* * *

 

The next morning, Jesus leads a small group to Hilltop. Before they leave, however, Eric captures a glimpse of them. Jesus sees him, too. He merely stares at him for a few moments with an odd look on his face. Daryl, who’s standing next to the man, also takes notice of this and Eric finds himself on the receiving end of attention that, in his humble opinion, is unwarranted.

After all, it wasn’t like he was the one who told Aaron to go rogue. They had a plan, darn it – even if it never panned out in the end.

While he won't readily admit this, he does linger around the corner and watch the group head off. Daryl doesn’t go with them but the spectacle he bears witness to looks an awful lot like a goodbye.

 

* * *

 

"Wait," he can't help but say. "What happened?"

Aaron inhales sharply, shaking his head - like even he can't believe it.

"Something went wrong - we don't know what, Kal didn't tell us much. And Jesus..."

Jesus got hurt, that's all they really know. And as soon as Daryl caught wind of it, he practically went on a warpath until Rick talked him down. Then he stomped off to God-knows-where. Apparently, they aren't letting anyone leave until tomorrow morning at the earliest. Even the short distance - twenty miles or so - is too risky this close to nightfall.

"But he's alive, right?" He's almost afraid to ask, but he needs to know.

"Yeah," Aaron answers breathlessly. "Yeah, he's alive. It's nothing life-threatening but he got beat-up pretty bad, I think."

"It's better than being dead," he says. They can be black and blue but as long as they're still breathing that means they're alive. Sometimes, that's all that matters.

Aaron steps closer to him and takes his face between his hands, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. This whole thing reminds him of the time he and Aaron were the only two scouting for Alexandria, when he was hurt and Aaron was shaking like a leaf when he stumbled in.

"As long as our hearts are still beating," Aaron whispers when they part.

"Then we're still here."

They remain there for a short time before Aaron finally takes a step back, still smiling down at him.

"Daryl hasn't come back yet."

He purses his lips. "If it was you, I don't think I'd be doing much better."

"Neither would I," Aaron admits. "I should go find him."

"Yeah, I think you should," he agrees. "See if you can bring him back here. I'll make an extra serving of spaghetti - maybe it'll take his mind off it for little awhile."

Even if it's only for a few minutes, that can make all the difference. As much as he hates to admit this, sometimes forgetting is the only thing they can do. Because remembering everything that's unraveled all around them can easily drive a person to the brink of insanity. 

Aaron leaves with one last goodbye and Eric finds himself in the company of a lonely house once more. Time has become relative since the world turned upside down - less important than it was before - so he doesn't know how many minutes tick by before Aaron returns.

All he really cares about is the fact that, when he turns around, he finds that his boyfriend isn’t alone. Daryl lingers behind, looking more tired than Eric remembers ever seeing him before. His eyes are lined red but Eric doesn't allow himself to stare for too long. Instead, he musters his warmest smile and guides Daryl to the table.

 

* * *

 

The next morning, they head to Hilltop as soon as Rick gives the go-ahead. Eric has never been there but considering that Daryl spent the whole night at their house, passed out on the sofa when he finally succumbed to exhaustion, he doesn’t really mind the impromptu trip. Daryl needs them – even if he won’t willingly admit it.

Logically, he knows the drive to Hilltop isn’t long – the roads are essentially desolate, the weather is clear, and the settlement is only twenty miles away – but it feels like an eternity passes before they finally see those large, wooden gates in the distance.

Daryl is out of the car as soon as Aaron brings it to a halt, marching towards one of the trailers off in the distance. He later finds out that it’s the medical trailer operated by Harlan Carson – the doctor whose name has floated around Alexandria for ages.

Glenn is already there, posted by what he assumes to be the entrance to the trailer, by the time he and Aaron finally make it. Daryl seems moments away from forcing his way inside, pacing around in a way that even makes Eric impatient.

“He’s fine,” Glenn immediately reassures them the moment he sees them. Or, Daryl – again. Glenn hardly seems to notice them at all.

“He dislocated his shoulder, but Dr. Carson has already popped it back into place,” Glenn continues, finally sparing him and Aaron a quick glance.

“He’s sleeping now but you can go see him if you want.”

“He in there?” Daryl asks without an ounce of hesitation. He’s still pacing around on anxious feet.  

“I’ll take you to him.” Glenn hesitates when he looks back at them. “Do you guys mind…?”

“Not at all,” Aaron replies. “We’ll wait here.”

Daryl nearly bolts inside the second Glenn opens the door. Glenn follows a moment later, giving them one last sympathetic look before he pulls the door shut behind him.

They only end up waiting there for a few minutes because Glenn returns rather quickly. He peeks through the door with a small smile.

“Did you want to come in?” he asks.

Of course they do, Eric thinks.

The trailer’s interior reminds him of every doctor’s office he’s ever been in. There’s an eye chart tacked to the wall, a stethoscope and blood pressure monitor hanging off the opposite side. Rather than a living room, the open area has been converted into a makeshift infirmary – three beds taking up the empty space. Two are empty, thankfully, but the one furthest from the door is occupied.

Eric can feel his jaw drop open the moment his eyes hone in on something in particular. Sure enough, just as Glenn said, Jesus is still bedridden, arm wrapped in a sling. He is a little worse for wear, a blotchy yellow bruise peeking through the collar of his shirt, and he’s a bit paler than he usually is. Daryl is in the chair next to him, hovering at his bedside.

That isn’t what completely caught him off guard though. No, it’s the fact that their hands are intertwined on the bed, fingers wrapped snugly around one another’s, that’s making him painfully confused. The sight, nevertheless, is as clear as day.

Aaron looks just as surprised as he feels. Glenn takes one look at them and lets out a quiet snort – like this didn’t suddenly come out of nowhere. Like he already knew…

Wait a minute…

“When did this happen?” he asks when he finds his voice again.

Jesus is still bleary-eyed, clearly as high as a kite on painkillers, when he turns his head towards them ever so slightly. Daryl doesn’t pull his hand away like Eric half-expects he would. He doesn’t even look startled.

However, he never gives him a clear answer. He gives Eric a one shouldered shrug instead before he gazes back down at Jesus with what can only be described as a look of endearment.

“Awhile ago,” Glenn eventually answers. “He didn’t tell you, did he?”

“Neither of them did,” Aaron confirms dryly.

“You know everyone’s going to find out eventually, right?” Glenn asks Daryl, arms crossed across his chest. He looks more amused than anything.

“They’re gonna be happy for you, man.”

“He’ll do it when he’s ready,” Jesus interjects, his voice a lot weaker than it normally is. “We’d really appreciate it if you kept this between us – for now, at least.” He’s looking at Eric and Aaron with something akin to a silent threat. His smile is too frosty to be genuine.

He’s more lucid than Eric originally thought.

“Of course,” Aaron says on their behalf.

Eric can’t do anything else aside from mustering a weak nod because his brain feels like it’s dangerously overheated, teetering on the edge of a meltdown. The only thing he can really focus on is their interlocked fingers – how in the ever loving hell did he miss that?

The signs were there, right in front of his face. He begins to realize that as more time passes by, as he and Aaron slowly trudge out of the trailer without any destination in mind.

Their little trips in the woods – while they seemed innocuous, maybe they were out there making out against a tree (that doesn’t feel out of the realm of possibility anymore). The staring had never been never one-sided – although, unlike Daryl who had the grace of a bull in a china shop, Jesus had mastered the skill of subtlety. The hushed conversations they had that would suddenly stop if anyone wandered too close.

God, _how_ did he miss that?

 

* * *

 

For awhile, he feels like they’re stuck in limbo. They can’t exactly leave – not without Daryl, at least. But Daryl’s been cooped up with Jesus in the medical trailer for well over an hour now and neither of them are exactly keen on the idea of interrupting them. In the end, it’s Daryl who finds them sitting by their little, beat-up Honda Accord.

The tinge of red on his face definitely isn’t sunburn.

“Go on without me,” he tells them, a bit sheepishly. His eyes dart helplessly between them. “M'gonna stick ‘round here.”

He’s not really surprised to hear that. If it was Aaron in that bed, he wouldn’t consider leaving – not even for a second.

“We get it,” Aaron reassures Daryl softly.

He does consider it – he considers saying his goodbyes, hopping into the car, and heading back to Alexandria without him. But the thought of doing that makes his gut twist uncomfortably. It makes him feel like a bad friend – not that he doesn’t already.

Eric still doesn’t understand why Daryl was reluctant to tell him and Aaron about their relationship. He has to know by now that they would've been the last people to pass judgment on him for something like that. After all, he’s been on the receiving end of some unsavory comments in regards to the person he loves – and he knows how much words can hurt. As he’s come to learn over the years, the saying “sticks and stones break my bones, but words will never hurt me” is completely wrong. Physical wounds heal over time but it’s the words that bury themselves deep into his skin.

“Did you guys need anything?” he asks.

Daryl seems startled by the question, but the shock wears thin pretty quick. He’s definitely calmed down since they’ve gotten here, since he found out for himself that Jesus was going to be just fine.

“Nah,” Daryl replies.

He decides that he won’t accept a ‘no’ as an answer. Doing that feels too much like giving up.

“Nonsense,” he says. “Where’s Jesus’ trailer? I'll make you guys something for dinner, it’s the least I can do.”

Daryl frowns and for a moment, it looks like he wants to say something else. Probably turn down the offer, if he has to guess. However, he never vocalizes it. Aaron reaches out and pats him on the shoulder. When Daryl glances over to him, he shakes his head with a small smile.

“Let him help,” he hears Aaron tell the archer quietly.

 _You’re a helper_. The first person that told him that was his mom when he was twelve and first expressed his interest in volunteer work. Later on, it was Aaron who told him that same thing days after they first met. He supposes it’s true.

In the end, Daryl doesn’t try to fight him on this. Instead, he silently points out Jesus’ trailer – the one closest to Barrington House.

 

* * *

 

“When you said we had company, I thought you were joking,” Jesus admits when he and Daryl first return to Jesus’ trailer. Daryl has a gentle but firm hand at the small of Jesus’ back, as if he has to hold the man up. A part of him finds it charming; the other part wants to remind Daryl that both of Jesus’ legs work just fine. But Jesus seems humored by the whole thing, sparing Eric an amused glance when Daryl helps him take a seat on the couch.

There’s a pillow and a folded up blanket on one end of it. He wonders if Daryl’s been sleeping there when he’s at Hilltop – he remembers what Tara told him not too long ago. Apparently, there is some truth to the rumors after all.

“You really don’t have to do this,” Jesus tells him.

“I want to,” he insists. Besides, he’s almost done making the salad. While it isn’t his finest work, there are definitely fewer options here at Hilltop. Their pantry is nowhere near as expansive as Alexandria’s.

(Even if it was, he doubts Jesus would have had a cabinet packed full of fresh ingredients. He mentioned being a lousy cook in the past).

“Well, alright then – if you insist,” Jesus eventually says.

Daryl takes a seat next to Jesus, the space between them practically nonexistent. It’s kind of sweet, he thinks while he watches the two of them. He never thought he’d see the day that Daryl Dixon became a mother hen – but then again, there are a lot of things he never thought would happen, roamers included.

He turns back around, grabbing for one of the kitchen knives.

“Hey,” Jesus whispers, too quiet to be directed towards him or Aaron. He can hear Jesus say something else, but the words are too quiet for him to decipher.

However, when he looks over his shoulder, he sees that Daryl has his face tucked into the crook of Jesus’ neck, on the side that isn’t decorated with a sling. It’s not that he means to pry – it’s hard not to stare, considering they’re in the same room and all – but he can’t help but feel like he’s imposing on a moment he’s not meant to see. Their entire relationship had been private up until today – for reasons that remain unknown. And there isn’t a doubt in his mind that whatever is unraveling in front of him is meant to be shared between only Jesus and Daryl.

He exchanges a glance with Aaron, who appears just as uncertain as he feels. Eventually, he tears his eyes away and redirects his attention to the salad he’s supposed to be preparing.

Just as he’s finishing up, he hears something shift behind him. Daryl is climbing to his feet, digging into his back pocket, when Eric turns around.

“Go,” Jesus says. “I’ll be fine here.”

Daryl doesn’t appear as sure, but he eventually sweeps a fleeting gaze across the room – meeting Eric’s gaze for only a short time before he finally pulls out a familiar little box from his pants. Cigarettes, he realizes.

He does leave without another word, slow on his feet. Eric imagines that he ends up lingering close to the trailer, a steady trail of smoke following his every move.

“So, you and Daryl, huh?” he says when he’s sure Daryl is outside.

Jesus’ lips quirk into a grin.

“I wanted to tell you.” He pauses, releasing a tired breath. “But Daryl wanted to keep it between us for now. The only reason Glenn and Maggie know is because they asked. Turns out Daryl isn’t a great liar.” He lets out a quiet laugh.

“Well, you sure fooled us.” Not even Tara has the slightest idea. Then again, she did say that there were rumors here at Hilltop. Maybe they weren’t so great at hiding it when the only place they had to themselves was this tiny trailer.

“I thought you had figured it out.” Jesus turns to Aaron with a raised eyebrow.

“We thought you liked each other,” Aaron says. “We definitely didn’t know about _this_.”

“Actually, I was worried he scared you off.”

“Not at all,” Jesus reassures him, shaking his head. “Carol was a lot more terrifying. It’s not every day someone threatens to tear me limb from limb.”

He can’t say he’s surprised. It didn’t take them long to realize that Carol is a force to be reckoned with. The sweet, doting housewife persona was pretty convincing though. She still has Olivia fooled that her goal at the moment is to find some special seasoning for her lasagna.

“Carol knows?” Aaron asks.

“Daryl told her,” Jesus answers. “I think he asked her for advice.”

Well, Daryl is undeniably close to Carol. He spends even more time with her than he spends with Rick.

“If you don’t mind me asking, why doesn’t he want to tell anyone?”

As soon as the truth came out, a whole new problem had surfaced. His stomach had dropped when he realized that it was a very real possibility that Daryl was still in the closet. Rick’s group formed somewhere in Atlanta – and Daryl mentioned growing up in the mountains of Northern Georgia. The South wasn’t exactly the most welcoming to alternate lifestyles.

(He hopes that’s not the case because that would mean he might’ve accidentally outed him to Tara).

God, he really hopes that’s not what happened…

“He’s not…?”

“No,” Jesus immediately says when he figures out what Eric is alluding to. “No, it’s not that.”

“Thank goodness,” he can’t help but breathe out in relief.

“I mean, he’s not really…out, I guess,” Jesus begins, voice unsure. “But he told me it wasn't about that when I asked. I think he's more worried about people prying too much - Daryl’s never been the most forthcoming about personal stuff.”

That’s…true. He’s tried asking the archer about pretty menial details – what did he do before this, did he have any family still out there, etc. – but Daryl remained pretty tight-lipped about those things. Eventually, he stopped asking.

“He’ll tell everyone when he’s ready. It doesn’t really change anything between us either way.”

It doesn’t – but hiding from everyone isn’t ideal.

“That’s actually why we got into an argument – before you had invited us over. I made a joke in front of the others that Daryl didn’t really appreciate.” He purses his lips. “I guess he thought I said too much – or that they’d figure it out.”

Then, Jesus glances over to Aaron. “That shovel talk came at a horrible time.”

“Sorry,” Aaron tells him with a wince.

“But you’re happy like this?” Eric asks. “You’re okay with not telling anyone else?”

“Not really,” Jesus admits quietly. “But everyone will eventually figure it out, like Glenn said. I just hope Daryl is ready to tell them before that time comes.”

Eric hopes so, too.

 

* * *

 

Before evening, Aaron and Eric take the car back to Alexandria. Predictably, Daryl stays behind – and Eric can tell that Jesus silently enjoys the surge of Daryl’s protective nature. If anything, he practically preens when Daryl hovers over him.

Although Eric doesn’t have the full story, from what he can gather, he thinks that Daryl isn’t the most obliging when it comes to their relationship. It isn’t that he doesn’t care – he definitely does based on Eric’s observations from today alone – but he’s never been the best at expressing himself.

He remembers when Daryl shot that possum and held it up as an offering all those months ago. It was as if he thought the gesture alone would earn some semblance of trust. (He can’t help but shudder when he remembers Daryl skinning some of those furry forest friends out on the porch – he’s pretty sure the blood never fully washed off). 

Words in general have never been his forte.

Maybe, he just needs a little help – someone to guide him and give him advice whenever he hits a snag. Relationships are hard; they’re complex and easy to mess up if you’re not careful. Jesus is obviously doing his best to find a happy middle, but it’s anything but happy. Compromise is great, but only if it’s done fairly.

Jesus is doing too much to accommodate Daryl.

Daryl doesn’t need to become one of those people that are far too comfortable with PDA, but hiding in the shadows is too far in the other direction. Their relationship isn’t something to be ashamed of – and while Daryl may not be ashamed exactly, he definitely isn’t entirely comfortable with it.

He knows that Daryl wouldn't appreciate him prying, but he doesn't see the harm in getting to the bottom of this. The only people he knows of that have any experience dealing with this sort of thing is himself and Aaron. They had to deal with some less than savory comments in Alexandria – had to deal with the stares and the quiet disapproval.

(Growing up, no one ever told him that it was the silence that was deafening).

Somewhere along the line, he wonders when he went from being a matchmaker to a relationship counselor.

 

* * *

 

Daryl returns a week later. Eric half-expects to find Jesus at his side, but he doesn’t see the man anywhere in the vicinity. It’s just Glenn and Daryl – and Glenn’s here to take some supplies back to Hilltop.

“Where’s Jesus?” he asks when he bumps into Daryl later in the day. By “bumps into”, he means intentionally following the gruff archer to the pantry and making it appear as if he accidentally stumbled into him.

“At Hilltop,” Daryl replies. “He ain’t allowed out ‘til his arm’s better.”

“And why aren’t you there with him?”

Daryl merely stares down at him, brow raised.

“‘Cuz he’s got two workin’ legs,” Daryl counters. “He don’t need me there.”

No, Jesus doesn’t need him there. But that doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. That’s what Daryl doesn’t seem to understand.

“But he wants you there.”

Daryl pauses, again, and the scowl that mars his lips is slow to take form.

“You don’t know that,” the older man grumbles. He busies himself with a can of soup, taking one from the carefully put-together stack, acting as if the tiny font on the back is more interesting than this conversation.

“I do know that,” he insists. Eric plucks the can right out of the man’s grip, carefully placing it back into its original spot.

“You hate onion,” Eric points out – gesturing to the very bold “Campbell’s French Onion” label wrapped around the front of the can.

Daryl flushes and averts his eyes to the floor.

He can practically feel the nervous energy rolling off Daryl in waves. Perhaps, this isn’t the best place to have this conversation. Anyone could walk in on them – and that’s the last thing he wants to happen.

“Come on,” he says. “I’ve got some leftovers at my house.”

The walk there is thankfully short, only a right turn and a few houses down from their starting point. Aaron isn’t there when they arrive – probably still busy with whatever Rick wanted help with earlier. He decides that might be for the best. After all, Daryl looks about two seconds from turning around and bolting out the front door.

Eric wasn’t lying about the leftovers. He does have at least two servings worth of pasta stored in the back of his fridge, which he hands off to Daryl without a second thought. They take a seat at the dining table, where Eric watches Daryl practically inhale the meal. He can feel the edges of his lips hedging upwards with every passing second.

“So, I talked to Jesus,” he eventually tells the other man. “But I never got your side of things.”

“My side of what?” Daryl asks with a furrowed expression.

“Why you’re not telling the others about you and Jesus.”

Daryl’s scowl returns in the blink of an eye, the food suddenly forgotten.

“It ain’t none of their business.”

No, he supposes it isn't. But he remembers what Glenn said - and agreeing with it. Eventually, people will start to notice the little things like Eric had. It's only a matter of time until someone else points it out, and it only takes one person to spread something like wildfire around here. There are way too many eavesdroppers just waiting to pounce on something.

This is a choice Daryl needs to make. (He knows if he were in Daryl's shoes, he'd want to be the one to make that decision rather than being forced to admit something this intimately private).

“No, it's not. But is it really worth it?” He hesitates, wondering if he should even tell Daryl this at all. Jesus will never tell him, but someone should. He might be poking the proverbial bear, but it’s for the greater good.

“He’s not happy.” The words practically pain him to say. “And I can’t help but wonder if you're ashamed about all this - which you shouldn't be. Your friends-" They're going to be happy for you, he wants to say. But he never gets the chance to.

“That ain’t it,” Daryl snaps before he can finish his thought. The man's knuckles have gone pale against the fork he's clutching between his fingers.

“Then what is it?”

Staring at the archer sitting just a few feet away feels more like staring at a caged animal than another person. A part of him wonders if Daryl will make a run for it or not.

Daryl shrugs. His temper seems to have simmered down.

“Look, I won’t tell him anything if that’s what you’re worried about,” he reassures Daryl. “This conversation will stay just between the two of us.”

And he means that. While he's not a certified therapist and HIPAA isn't really a thing anymore, he knows how important it is to keep this exchange private. Daryl definitely won't open up otherwise.

Eric can tell that Daryl is considering it. He hasn’t budged, at least – hasn’t moved at all but for bringing his thumb to his mouth. The seconds that tick by feel like they stretch on into eternity before Daryl finally exhales noisily, meeting his curious gaze soon after.

“I dunno what m’doin’,” Daryl admits quietly. “Ain’t ever done this before.”

“What – been in a relationship?”

The sharp look he gets in return is enough to answer his question.

To be honest, he’s not really surprised by that revelation. Daryl is one of those people that travel with iron walls, ones that are increasingly difficult to tear down. He and Aaron have barely scratched the surface, gotten to know Daryl on a friendly, platonic level. Eric can only imagine how difficult it was for Jesus to pursue something further.

Then again, Jesus has always teetered on the stubborn side of things. He comes off like a person who'd enjoy a good challenge.

“Jesus doesn’t care about that. You know that, right?”

“He says that now,” Daryl mutters under his breath, so quiet that Eric wonders if he meant to say it at all. But he hears the words and their meaning loud and clear.

A light bulb goes off in his head. The pieces fit perfectly together in that single moment of clarity.

So, that’s what it is.

He's afraid Jesus is going to leave him for someone more experienced, someone who isn't hiding. Eric supposes he can relate to what Daryl's going through because he went through the same dilemma more than once, years ago, when he first started dating. The fear of inadequacy is something that can fester for years, until it becomes a monster in its own right. Somehow, that fear always finds a way to become concrete. It's because of that fear that he's lost people before - he nearly lost Aaron because he was absolutely terrified of the 'what-ifs'.

It makes sense that Daryl would be so reluctant to take the next step and announce his new relationship, especially if he doesn't even think it's going to last.

“Daryl, he doesn’t care about that,” Eric says – again. “He cares about _you_.”

Finally, Daryl looks up at him. He doesn’t appear very convinced, unfortunately.

“Have you talked about this – with Jesus?”

When he doesn’t receive an answer, he assumes that to indicate a silent ‘no’.

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned about relationships, it’s how important communication is,” he tells the archer. Without that component, relationships can crumble easily. He learned that the hard way.

“What if you’re wrong?”

He knows he’s not.

“You won’t know unless you try,” he says instead.

Daryl brings his thumb to his mouth again. “He said that – ‘bout bein’ unhappy?”

“He didn’t have to.”

 

* * *

 

“So, that’s what it was…” Aaron says once Eric fills him in on what he missed. His boyfriend is currently situated in one of their recliners, leaning back and staring up at the ceiling with a thoughtful expression.

He had debated whether or not to tell him. Ultimately, he decided to because he knows that Aaron won't tell another soul. He also wants to be sure that he's doing the right thing in this situation, to make sure that he isn't pushing Daryl into doing something he absolutely doesn't want to do.

_("If he didn't want to do it, you'd know. The fact that he took the time to hear you out is enough to convince me that he's considering it at least," Aaron had told him)._

“I just hope he takes the advice.” He rubs a hand across his face. The fatigue that follows is both harsh and sudden, and he barely contains the yawn he can feel tugging at his jaw.  

As much as he hates to admit it, he doesn’t think Daryl and Jesus’ relationship will last unless they talk through their problems. It seems to have only gotten worse – and he doesn’t even know how long they’ve been together. At least for a few weeks, probably more based on what Glenn said.

Aaron turns his head towards him, lips tilted into a lopsided but tired smile.

“For what it’s worth, I think he will.”

 

* * *

 

Daryl never leaves for Hilltop, much to Eric’s disappointment. However, the sentiment is short-lived – to some extent – because another six days pass before a familiar vehicle is pulling up to their gates. Jesus jumps out of the passenger’s seat, no sling in sight, wearing a friendly but confident grin. However, Eric doesn't miss how the man practically cradles his injured limb to his chest, reluctant to use it unless he has no other option.

“How’s your arm?” he asks when he treads near.

“Better than before,” Jesus answers. “It's still a bit stiff, though.”

“At least it’s not a broken ankle,” he returns with a chuckle.

Jesus winces in response.

“A tire rolled over it and crushed it.” That was the last time he went out scouting with Aaron. After that, Daryl started going with him.

“And here I thought dislocating my shoulder from a fall was bad.”

Eric opens his mouth but something catches his attention out of the corner of his eye, making him stop short. Jesus seems to pause as well, eyes blown a little wider than usual. For once, that surefire confidence appears to waver.

When he looks to his right, he finds Daryl standing there with an unusually flustered expression. He hardly seems to notice Eric at all.

“Um…hey,” Jesus says, his voice a lot more unsure than it was just moments ago. Apparently, Daryl's untimely arrival had rattled the man more than Eric figured it would.

Then again, he's beginning to realize that there's a lot about these two that he doesn't know.

“Can we talk?”

As soon as the words leave Daryl’s mouth, Eric feels relieved.

“Sure,” Jesus replies. He glances back to Eric, who waves him off with a grin.

“You two go on ahead,” he tells him. “I have to head to the infirmary anyway. Duty calls.” And by duty, he means scrubbing the floor with Tara again.

However, unlike all the other times, there’s an unmistakable skip in his step – because Daryl seems to have actually taken his advice to heart. Maybe, things will work out after all.

 

* * *

 

“Look,” Aaron says suddenly, stopping him mid-sentence. He holds out his arm, finger pointing to something. Eric follows the gesture and finds himself staring at the vacant house across the street. Or, well, the normally vacant house – it’s not so vacant now with Jesus here in Alexandria. The man in question is standing on the porch, the front door wide open behind him, Daryl close at his side. He can see their mouths moving – and sees the smile on Jesus’ face, which makes him practically giddy.

He hadn’t seen either of them since his short conversation with Jesus yesterday. Wherever they went, they were well-hidden; especially considering this is the first time he’s seen them nearly a day and a half later. But, looking at them now, they certainly seem a lot happier than before.

That has to mean their talk went well. There’s no other explanation for it.

“I guess they worked it out,” Eric concludes.

“Who worked what out?” he hears a familiar – but feminine – voice ask. Tara walks out of the doorway, dishrag in hand. After he helped clean up the infirmary (for a second day in a row because that place never stays clean for long), she had come over for dinner. He expects Denise to show up whenever she’s done for the day - she had mentioned something about wound management earlier.

Instead of answering, he merely nods towards the pair across the street. Tara looks and furrows her brow.

“Wait…I’m confused.”

Before Eric can conjure up a proper response – or one to tide her over because he isn’t willing to divulge their relationship to another person without their explicit permission – Tara’s jaw practically unhinges.

Admittedly, he can feel his own mouth drop open when he turns back to them.

He supposes their relationship isn’t much of a secret anymore, not with the way they’re kissing right there, outside, on the porch. Whatever reservations Daryl had before must’ve flown out the window. In fact, if his eyes aren't deceiving him, he's the one who has an arm wrapped around Jesus' back, pulling him impossibly close.

“Did you…?” Tara barely manages to ask.

“No,” he replies. “Apparently, there was some truth to the rumor after all.”

Tara quirks a brow. “They were already together?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Damn it, I owe Denise my chocolate rations now.”

Hold on a second…

_“You had a bet on this?”_

 

**Author's Note:**

> (Tara may or may not have had a helping hand in starting that betting pool).
> 
> Originally, I was planning for this to be about 3,000-5,000 words but I wanted to end it with Daryl feeling comfortable enough to tell everyone about him and Jesus (or show them, I guess). So, I just went with that and here we are at 10,000+ words. This was really fun to write, despite it being nearly double the length I thought it would be.
> 
> I might write the prequel to this (where Daryl and Jesus actually get together), so be on the lookout for that. Thanks for reading and kudos and comments are very much appreciated.


End file.
